Grey Areas
by RedStalkingDeath
Summary: The Winchesters hasn't had a real case to work on for way too long, but when they decide to investigate the presumed animal attacks of Mystic Falls, they just might be in for a bit more than they bargained for. Dean/Damon slash
1. Chapter One: Mystic -What?

**Disclaimer: I do not own either Supernatural of the Vampire Diaries. So, now you know...  
**

* * *

Chapter One: Mystic –What?

Dean Winchester was bored.

He and his younger brother Sam had been stranded at this crappy motel in the middle of nowhere for about two weeks now.

Taking a sip from his half-empty bottle of beer, propped up against the headboard of his bed, he took in the same furnishings he had been staring at for what seemed like months, if not years now. The dirty yellow paint was peeling off of the walls and the ceiling was leaking over in the corner by the door which was covered in scratch marks and had a handle so loose it was about to fall off. The desk his brother was sitting at sported more burn marks than he cared to count, while the windows were covered in so many fingerprints it was a miracle the outside was even visible at all anymore. There were suspicious-looking spots all over the worn carpet – but he honestly felt he could live a perfectly happy life without ever learning what had been spilled on it - and the lamp by his bed wasn't working.

He didn't even bother to _think_ about the bathroom.

The two hunters hadn't had a job in over a month. Well, not a _real_ job to any stretch of the imagination. There had been a couple of false alarms, like nearly three weeks ago when a middle aged man ran around screeching about demons. Turned out it had less to do with the supernatural than mental instability and a few drinks too many.

"What's Mystic Falls?" Sam's voice cut through the pressing silence, removing his nose from their dad's old journal which he'd scanned from cover to cover several times in search of clues to, well, anything really.

"Mystic -what?" Dean asked with a slightly raised brow, eager to finally have _anything_ breaking through his incessant boredom, even if it was just for a short moment.

"Mystic Falls," the younger man repeated slowly and clearly – hoping he wouldn't have to repeat himself once again – tapping his right index finger against one of the delicate pages towards the middle of the worn book. "It says so right here."

"Sounds like a lame-ass name made up by some bastard who needs to get a life, to me," the older one proclaimed, sounding bored to death as he brought the bottle to his lips once more for another mouthful of the bitter liquid.

"I sincerely doubt dad would have put it in his journal just for laughs," Sam responded dryly, irritated by the other hunter's lack of interest in the current subject.

"Well, what does it say, then?" he questioned, infusing a tiny amount of curiosity in his tone of voice, because frankly he felt too lazy to start an unnecessary fight with his brother at the moment.

"_That's just it_," his brother exclaimed in frustration, hitting the desk to emphasize his point. "It says 'Mystic Falls' with a question mark following it, nothing more to it."

Silence descended once again over their lousy living area as both men contemplated the various possibilities of the new and unexpected situation.

"Okay, you put your geekiness to some use and figure it all out," Dean decided with a smirk, getting up from the creaky bed, grabbing his car keys and leather jacket before approaching the door. "_I'm_ gonna go get some pie."

And with that he was out and Sam could hear the roar of the Impala's engine as it started up and drove away. With a sigh he hooked up his beloved laptop, fetched a semi-cold beer from the broken fridge and made himself comfortable at the desk to do what he did best: research.

* * *

A couple of hours later – way too long for a simple food stop - Dean finally returned to the motel room, carrying two brown bags of food and a packet of cheap beer.

Sam quirked a lightly inquiring eyebrow at his late entrance. "What took you so long?"

"Hey," the just arrived man began, bringing his fully occupied hands up in defence. "They were all out of pie, I had to drive all the way to the next one!"

Dean put his purchases down on the desk beside the laptop. The younger man just gave him a pointed stare until he gave in.

"Okay, okay, I had to chat up this hot chick," he offered in defeat, producing a scrap of paper from his pocket, gingerly holding it up in the air with a poorly masked grin of victory.

Sam presumed the piece of paper contained some random chick's cell phone number, but he didn't let the thought linger – it was nothing he hadn't seen before.

Dean grabbed his bag of food – the one _not_ containing the awful 'rabbit-food' his brother insisted on eating – then threw himself on the bed, causing it to creak ominously, threatening to break down soon if it wasn't treated better.

"Did you find anything?" he asked distractedly, finding more interest in unpacking his highly anticipated pie.

"Mystic Falls is a small town in Virginia," the younger Winchester began, looking over the information he'd aquired over the last few hours. "The town's history go all the way back to the 1860s. Most of the founding families still live there today, and they frequently arrange celebrations-"

"What's with the history lesson?" Dean exclaimed incredulously, but slightly muffled by the food he'd been devouring. "Get on with it!"

Sam gave him a dark look, _not_ liking being so rudely interrupted in his well-prepared speech. "This particular town has had a suspiciously large amount of deaths the last few years alone," he continued, determined to be the more mature of the two of them. "Most of them are very vague on the details..." he trailed off, distracted by his brother's disgusting display of what was supposed to be eating, but looked more like a ravenous beast that somehow had gotten its dirty paws on a plate of – more or less – human food. "Dude, _seriously_?"

"Wha-?" the 'ravenous beast' wondered obliviously, mouth full of half-chewed food.

The – in his own opinion – only decent brother released a weary sigh before picking up where he left off. "Like I said, most of the deaths are vague on the details, but most of them are deemed animal attacks. The website to the local newspaper is pretty low standard, so if we take on the case we should check out the local library at some point."

Dean watched as his baby brother flipped a lock of his too long hair out of his eyes. He thought he looked ridiculously girly, and would most definitely have made some flippant remark about it had his mouth been available for anything other than chewing at the time.

"From what I could gather, there don't seem to be any pattern to the victims," the long-haired man continued, unaware of the other's inattention. "Strangers driving through town, school teachers, students, joggers, campers. One at the time, two, a whole group. The only thing these 'animal attacks' seem to have in common is the mutilated bodies and that they all happen during the night, or rather when it's _dark_ outside."

"Werewolf?" Dean perked up, the conversation having finally caught his attention.

"It doesn't fit with the lunar cycle," Sam informed in his usual severe tone of voice, he had of course already ruled out that possibility.

"Vampires, then?" Dean suggested with a frown, he _really_ didn't like those bloodsuckers.

"Might be," Sam agreed, shutting his laptop with a snap and finally picking up his own bag of food for some much needed nutrition. "But then again it could just be a normal, non-supernatural animal."

"Well, there have to be _something_ for dad to put it in the journal," Dean stated with conviction, because why else would John Winchester have any interest in some small, insignificant town? "Mystic Falls it is, then. It's not like we have anything better to do."

And with that decision some people's lives were about to be irrevocably turned upside down.

* * *

**AN: Leave me a review before you go? Pretty please?**

**12.12.12  
**


	2. Chapter Two: No Surprise There

**AN: Big thanks to _anneryn7 _and _Ange De La Misericorde_ for their kind reviews! :)**

* * *

Chapter Two: No Surprise There

Damon Salvatore had just sent his baby brother off to school – not that he really cared about his 163 years old younger brother's superfluous education, but what kind of 'guardian' would he be if he let his 'ward' skip school? He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

At that specific point in time he was standing with his usual, overwhelmingly confident stance on the porch of Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes, having just rang her doorbell. Staring at the plain white door, he could hear the bell ringing throughout the equally plain two storey house. With his inhuman, albeit often extremely practical hearing, he could hear the tinkling of cups and plates in the kitchen coming to an abrupt end as the owner of the house reacted to the sudden sound. He could even hear her heart skip a beat when she was startled.

It didn't take the woman long to reach the door and open it, her face distributing her slight surprise freely. Before she got as far as to open her mouth and utter a single syllable, the younger-looking man at the door beat her to it.

"I got your message," he said as a way of greeting, getting straight to the point of his visit by referring to the text message he'd received on his phone barely three minutes earlier.

"Come in," she offered with a strained smile, stepping aside and holding the door open for him to enter.

Closing the door silently before following her ally into the kitchen, she settled down at the table across from him.

"Do you have any hard liquor laying around here?" the dark-haired man inquired lightly, letting his gaze sweep over the obviously newly cleaned room as he made himself as comfortable as he could get on the uncomfortable wooden chair.

Giving the old man a questioning look, she wondered where – or rather when – the manners he had to have learned growing up in the nineteenth century had gone.

"What? I left the Boarding house without dinner, and I'm _starving_. So, unless you're offering anything more filling..." he left the sentence hanging, the exaggerated licking of his lips while eying her neck hungrily easily getting his point across.

"I'm on vervain," the Sheriff warned the dangerously hungry vampire, fighting against her body's instinct to run as fast as its feet could possibly bear it away from the lethal creature's scary gaze.

"Is that regret I hear in your voice, Sheriff?" he asked teasingly, delivering his trademark smirk and a suggestive wink like he hadn't looked to be about to literally eat her just seconds earlier. "I can make it feel so good. _Unbelievably_ good."

The blonde merely rolled her light brown eyes – her former fear had dissolved into practically nothing with his change of mood - and let a small, amused smile slip past the tight hold she had of her facial expressions. The horribly charming male in the room truly was a notorious flirt.

"If I give you a glass of scotch, will you behave for _five_ minutes?" she bargained questioningly, already out of the chair and on her way to fetch the requested drink from the cabinet over in the corner by the window and a glass from the cupboard above the sink.

"Make that the whole bottle, and I'll be an angel," he compromised, his devilish smirk already contradicting his ability to hold his end of the agreement.

Sighing softly and shaking her head in defeat, Liz put a glass and a three-quarters full bottle of alcohol firmly down on the dinner table in front of the craving vampire, then reclaimed her spot by the table herself.

"Do you have any news concerning our town's current problem?" the woman inquired in full Sheriff and council member mode as she watched her companion pour himself a generous amount of scotch, before straight away proceeding to down the whole thing in one go.

There were new vampires in Mystic Falls – no surprise there, the place seemed to be downright magnetic to anything remotely connected to the supernatural part of the world. The difference this time around was that the enemy predators managed to keep themselves off their radar – except the barely alive human bodies they left spread around town in increasing numbers. It had been weeks since the last time anyone had actually been found dead, but because of this Damon had been assigned to healing and compelling duty to make sure these attacks stayed secret and to further avoid public panic.

"No, nothing," he sighed in frustration, pouring another glass and swallowing another mouthful before continuing. "I've been working on cleaning up their mess of injured and uncompelled victims _all day_, and with the use of my special abilities and the many blood donations, I'm requiring twice the dose of blood I normally do. The others aren't of any help either, Stefan spends all his time with Elena, and it's not like he's strong enough to be of much help with his diet anyway. Caroline's not entirely useless, but she needs to go to school every day so no one gets suspicious about _that_," the blue-eyed man ranted in agitation as the hunger put him on edge.

Abandoning his glass in favor of drinking straight from the bottle, he emptied it quickly in only a few large gulps.

"You're a good man, Damon," Liz assured him gently, placing her hand on top of his larger one, squeezing it lightly in reassurance and staring him directly in the eyes with the most sincere look he'd seen directed at his person in a _very_ long time.

"Shh," he mock whispered, slurring slightly and putting his right index finger to his mouth in the universal sign to keep silent. "Don't tell anyone!"

"Are you drunk?" the blonde human being asked incredulously, raising both eyebrows in disbelief. "I thought you said your kind had incredibly high alcohol tolerance?"

"Well," the vampire began, dragging out the word as a darkly amused smirk took control of his lips. "You know what they say about drinking on an empty stomach.

* * *

A large sign with the words 'Welcome to Mystic Falls' flashed by the windows of a black, gorgeous 1967 Chevy Impala as it drove into town late that night. The dark had descended over the area hours before, a fact Sam Winchester didn't hesitate to point out to his older brother – the one behind the wheel – grating on his already frayed nerves.

"Shut up, Sammy," he snapped in irritation, too tired after a whole day on the road to deal with the younger man's complaints. "I _know_ my baby. Meaning: it's got to be your trips to the library that's to blame for the extra gas-stop."

The younger hunter didn't bother to answer and just left the older one to his driving while he himself ruffled through a duffle bag, checking up on their weapons and making sure they were prepared for anything this new case may throw at them.

"Where did you put the dead man's blood we got earlier? You didn't leave it behind at the motel, did you?" Sam asked concerned, honestly hoping that wouldn't be the case, since he really didn't want to have to break into another morgue anytime soon.

"Of course I didn't,"Dean defended himself harshly, making no attempt to hide his bad mood. "It's in the backseat."

The man in the passenger seat turned around, catching sight of the item in question, before stretching one of his – according to Dean – ridiculously long arms to grab the jar of blood. Because of the inside of the car being so dark, he took off the cap and stuck a finger into it to measure how much of the liquid they had at their disposal, finding it almost full.

Exhausted from sitting in the same position all day, they silently agreed to stop at the first decent motel and get a room for their stay in town.

Entering the room, Sam would hog the bathroom – slamming the door in the face of his brother that obviously would attempt to sneak past him - aiming for a much needed shower. Meanwhile, Dean would just pass out waiting for his turn – on top of the itchy bedspread and fully dressed, shoes and all.

* * *

**AN: Yep, that's the second chapter - what did you all think? I'd love to hear any thoughts! (Even the bad ones..)**

**12.19.12  
**


	3. Merry Christmas!

**Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! :D  
**

**I've been away for Christmas, and we were 23 relatives gathered together for the celebrations. I had a wonderful time, but unfortunately that means I've practically had no time to write on my story the last two weeks. When I did have some free time I had a tendency to get really inspired with ideas for later 'scenes', especially for our favourite hunter and vampire's, ehm, _first time_ together. I have to say, I'm _really_looking forward till I get to that, but it won't be for quite some time yet – I don't want to rush it!**

**Anyway, personally I always hate it when authors update their stories, and then it turns out just to be some Authors Note. Therefore I have here a little teaser for the next chapter. Hope you like it!**

* * *

Chapter Three

If there was one thing Dean hated in this world, it was to dress up. He absolutely _loathed_ the torture devices called 'suits'. Seriously, what kind of idiot came up with the bright idea to put any self-respecting man in those restricting garments? It was _ridiculous,_ really.

These thoughts - and about a dozen similar ones – circulated in the hunter's brain as he adjusted the collar of his stiff, white dress shirt for the fiftieth time. He'd gladly take on thirty vengeful ghosts or an army of wendigos any day of the week, rather than the agony of wearing these pristine pieces of cheap cloth.

His younger brother wore his one-more-word-from-you-Dean-and-I-can't-be-held-responsible-for-the-fate-of-your-beloved-Impala expression – courtesy of the older brother for spending the whole morning loudly complaining about _every inch_ of clothing covering his body, all the way from his too tight dress jacket to his holey left sock – which matched his awful attire perfectly.

* * *

**I hope you'll all have a splendid new year :) And may it be at least ten times better than the last!**

**.  
**

**Sincerely**

_**RedStalkingDeath**_

**.  
**

**03:10 am**

**01.01.2013**


	4. Chapter Three: Patience Is A Virtue

**A****N:**** A heartfelt THANK YOU to everyone that has been reading my story, especially _Haru Maru Salvatore_, _Ange De La Misericorde_, _HikariYamino_, _YaoiIsMyDrug.23_, _anneryn7_, _The Purple Jade_, '_Guest_' and _Sherlyn -Queen -B_ for brightening my day with their wonderful reviews! :D  
**

**Answer to the anonymous review from '_Guest_': Thanks! ;D Can't wait for their first encounter myself, hehe xD *wants to hit myself for being so slooow*  
**

* * *

Chapter Three: Patience Is A Virtue

If there was one thing Dean hated in this world, it was to dress up. He absolutely _loathed_ the torture devices called 'suits'. Seriously, what kind of idiot came up with the bright idea to put any self-respecting man in those restricting garments? It was _ridiculous,_ really.

These thoughts - and about a dozen similar ones – circulated in the hunter's brain as he adjusted the collar of his stiff, white dress shirt for the fiftieth time. He'd gladly take on thirty vengeful ghosts or an army of wendigos any day of the week, rather than the agony of wearing these pristine pieces of cheap cloth.

His younger brother wore his one-more-word-from-you-Dean-and-I-can't-be-held-responsible-for-the-fate-of-your-beloved-Impala expression – courtesy of the older brother for spending the whole morning loudly complaining about _every inch_ of clothing covering his body, all the way from his too tight dress jacket to his holey left sock – which matched his awful attire perfectly.

Unfortunately for Dean's sense of self, there was not much he could do to get out of it – it was not like he could pass off as a proper FBI Agent in front of a Sheriff in his usual worn jeans and jacket.

Outside the Sheriff's office the customary secretary greeted the two young men with a 'Good morning!' and a thorough and not at all subtle visual scanning of their suit-clad bodies.

Dean, of course – ever the womanizer - couldn't resist the temptation of flirting with any new, female face on his way, much to Sam's eternal frustration and embarrassment.

"Hey," the older man paused briefly in search of a name tag on the young woman's chest, gaze lingering a little longer than appropriate on her slightly exposed cleavage. "Cindy. I'm Special Agent Dean Johnson of the FBI, this is my partner Samuel Johnson, and I'm wondering what a beautiful girl like you are doing in a place like this?"

With an eye roll and an expression of impatience the younger man pushed his incorrigible brother aside to take control of the situation. Dean straightened his jacket, looking quite pissed at the taller man's interference.

"We'd like to see the Sheriff, please," Sam requested politely, with an air of professionalism.

"The Sheriff's not here at the moment, but if you'd like to wait, I'm sure she'll be back any minute," the girl replied unsurely, somewhat intimidated by the more serious of the two newcomers as she gestured awkwardly towards the beat up old couch in the far corner of the waiting room.

"Right," he uttered in a flat voice, displaying his forced, fake smile – for the umpteenth time in his twenty-five years long life – simply for the sake of being polite.

* * *

Damon Salvatore was reclining in a comfy chair in front of the fireplace at the Boarding house, sipping blood from a glass of crystal, his mind all but lost in contemplation. The microwave heated blood from the hospital tasted slightly off. The dark-haired vampire swirled the viscous liquid around the edges of the glass before taking another sip. The blood bag had probably been laying aroung way too long. He would have liked to have something _fresh_ for once. He had been living off of the 'frozen food' for quite some time now. It would have been _so good_ to sink his fangs into the slender neck of some poor, oblivious human being right about then.

To _hear_ the heart start racing. To _feel_ the pulse upon his lips. To _taste_ the delicious flavour of fear in the rich blood.

He missed it. _Truly_ missed it.

There was not much he could do about it, though. Not here. Not now. He had enough to do without having to cover up his own dinners as well.

What he _really_ could use was some semi-willing – meaning, someone willing after he'd put his talents of persuasion to good use – blood donor to satisfy his thirst at any time of the day.

His _dear_, little brother and his little human girlfriend would probably band together in protest if he acted out on his thoughts, though, along with vampire Barbie and her mongrel – and _that_ he did _not_ need at the moment. Alaric most likely wouldn't give him too much grief about it, even if he didn't necessarily _like_ or _approve_ of the lifestyle.

He left those kinds of thoughts at that and got up to get a refill of his drink. After all, he had all eternity live life – pun intended. There was no rush. None at all.

* * *

Any minute became fifteen minutes, became half an hour, became two hours, and _still_ the elusive Sheriff of Mystic Falls had yet to show up at the station.

The two fake FBI agents were way beyond sick of the wait by that point, and – had they _not_ been lying when they claimed to be FBI – would have been about ready to file a complaint against the place. But seeing as they weren't – and it would be a snowy day in hell before either one of them would ever even consider the _idea_ of signing up for such a job – they'd just have to suck it up and try to make the best of it.

And that was exactly what Dean was doing as he lay sprawled on his back all over a flower patterned, two seater couch underneath the room's only window. He had one arm placed strategically under his head – cushioning it against the the armrest that wasn't even _close_ to being able to go for a comfortable pillow – while the other one was busy, idly flipping the pages of his seventh gossip slash fashion magazine. Somehow, over a two hour timespan, his tie had ended up halfway beneath the couch – only a few inches of the thin end sticking out – his shirt had become all wrinkly and had loosened considerably around the neck. His shoeless feet were haging over the edge of the opposite end of the couch, dangling freely in the air near a similarly patterned chair occupied by his younger brother.

Sam sat quietly in a haze of calm and patience, lost in his own world with only his new smartphone – which apparantly could do _anything_ – for company. His extreme aptitude for patience was enough to impress anyone – except Dean, that is. To his older brother, who hardly knew what the word even _meant_ himself, it was just a cause for extreme annoyance.

The younger one truly wouldn't have minded the wait all that much if it weren't for the fact that his insufferable brother kept making smacking sounds with his tongue every few minutes. An hour earlier the guy had spent his time incessantly humming and singing silently, but enthusiastically to himself while playing imaginary drums with great gusto.

"Hey, Sammy!" Dean called without lowering the magazine from in front of his face, kicking Sam's arm to get his attention, causing the other man to drop his precious phone to the floor. "Did you know that mayonnaise does wonders for wrinkles?"

Sam inhaled deeply to hold back his aggravation, then bent down to pick up the phone off of the dusty linoleum floor, giving it a quick once over to check for possible damage.

"That's awesome! Right, Sammy?" Dean continued with a lighthearted chuckle, oblivious to the potent death glare his brother was giving him, threatening to burn holes straight through the poor, innocent magazine that unwittingly acted as a temporary shield for the older hunter. "Now you don't have to worry about _that_, eh, Sammy?"

And with his next action he triggered the other man to the point of explosion: he kicked him _again_, leading him to drop his phone _again_.

"Dean, stop it!" the now furious hunter shouted in anger, causing his confused brother to _finally_ lower the damned magazine with a questioning frown.

Now, if looks could kill Dean Winchester would be decomposing by now. Seemed like he could easily irk his baby brother without even really trying. Fortunately for Dean and – according to the man himself – the entirety of the world's female population, they were interrupted before the situation had a chance to escalate into something _truly_ nasty.

Quite fittingly, the Sheriff's long awaited arrival were a real lifesaver.

* * *

When the two young men entered the Sheriff's office after the extended wait, it was to the sight of the woman herself standing up from behind her semi-tidy desk to greet them.

Sheriff Forbes took her time to study the two strangers as she shook their hands; the tall, long-haired one looking all prim and proper like a real man of the FBI, and the other one. She didn't quite know what to think of the the shorter, short-haired one. He looked like he had just left a particularly wild and long-drawn-out dinner party, with his loose, untucked shirt and missing tie.

Dean delivered his most sheepish grin at the inspecting and sceptic look the Sheriff was giving him, seeming to be in the process of deciding whether or not it was supposed to be a particularly bad kind of joke.

Sam could practically _feel_ the odds of easy cooperation from the Sheriff dropping by the second. All because of his brother's inability to stay impeccably dressed.

"Can I see some badges, please?"

* * *

**AN: I feel like patting myself on the back for finally finishing another chapter xP  
**

**Review, anyone...? I'll beg if I have to!  
**

**01.09.13  
**


	5. Chapter Four: A Beer Would Be Awesome

**AN: I'd like to give a special thanks _ .rain_, _The Purple Jade_, _power of darkness_, _Haru Maru Salvatore_, _Guest_, _Sherlyn -Queen -B_, _kb_, _Ange De La Misericorde_ and _Vanitas-Of-Darkness _for motivating and inspiring with their reviews, and everyone else that has added my story to their favorites and alerts :D  
**

******Answer to the anonymous review**s:

**_The Purple Jade_ and _Guest_: Thank you! Glad you like it ;)  
**

**_kb_: First, thank you! :) I totally agree with you there; Liz is neither blind nor stupid, and she won't trust the boys longer than she can throw them. I have to say I still love the show, even though I hate that they let so many characters die :( Alaric will make an appearance soon enough ;) Yeah, you might be right, Liz probably should have had some reaction to his words. I really forgot about it when I wrote that part. But then again, I think she might have given up on commenting every time he makes an inappropriate remark. I know it's a more serious situation, but in episode 3x04 (when Liz and Damon goes to compel Bill) Damon refers to Caroline as an 'annoying control freak' - Liz says nothing. But like I said, I do realize the situation is different, so you're probably right. Once again, thank you so much! ;D**

**Hope you all like this new chapter! :]  
**

* * *

Chapter Four: A Beer Would Be Awesome Right About Now

"Can I see some badges, please?" Sheriff Forbes demanded politely, but with a sharp edge of suspicion coloring her stern voice.

"Sure," the youngest man replied with a tight-lipped smile, giving his brother a lethal sideways glare.

The two Winchester boys flipped their newly made FBI badges in perfect synchronization, indicating years of practice.

The display might convince anyone else, but the suspicions of the Sheriff of Mystic Falls weren't that easily alleviated. You may call her paranoid, but in her opinion it was always better to be safe than sorry. She'd make sure to get to the very bottom of the mystery that was these strange FBI Agents, but for now she'd just have to settle for playing along.

"Mr. Johnson, Mr. Johnson, please have a seat," she said with a forced, polite smile, her tone of voice allowing no room for discussion.

Deciding the ideal choice of action at the time would be to follow the woman's orders, the two men hurriedly sat down in front of the desk – one with considerably more pose than the other.

"Can I offer you anything to drink?" she inquired neutrally, hiding all traces of being suspicious from her voice – she couldn't afford to make them wary of ingesting anything she offered.

Better part of a year she'd had her secretary lace any and all refreshments at the station with vervain – without letting the girl in on what the herb was and what it did, of course – to avoid getting any nasty surprise. The new safety precautions had been instated the moment she received knowledge about vampires cheating out on the burning in the sun part. Also, it was downright scary how easily Damon Salvatore had managed to sneak his way into the highly secret town council, acquiring their full trust in no time. Not that it was all bad having a vampire ally – it had actually come in quite handy on more than one occation.

"A beer would be awesome right about now," Dean blurted out thoughtlessly in a feeble attempt to disperse of the thick cloud of awkwardness hanging over the room, weighing down heavily on it's three occupants.

In the deafening silence that followed his rash words he received a well-earned, swift kick to the leg by his dear, little brother for his efforts – hidden from the Sheriff's view by her desk, of course.

"Just kidding," the older hunter added hurriedly, raising both his hands in defeat when he gave up on the little hope he had left that the woman might have more of a sense of humour than his younger brother did.

"Coffee? Tea?" she suggested politely, switching back to playing the hospitable, small-town Sheriff – at least towards the more decent of the two agents. "I'll have a coffee, myself, and I'd feel much better about it if I wasn't the only one."

"Sure," Sam agreed at once, seeing as at that point he was willing to do just about anything to please the Sheriff and lessen any damage his impossible brother had already caused. "Thank you."

"No problem, it will be ready in a minute," she replied with a smile as she made to pass over their requests.

Dean watched as the woman called for her secretary. He had no clue whatsoever what the name of the device she used was – he had never bothered wasting his precious time learning about all those new techno thingys. He owned a simple cell-phone, and that was enough. He couldn't really see himself ever being in any situation where he'd be dependent on any of the other crap they made these days.

"Now, what brings the two of you to our small town like this, gentlemen?" Sheriff Forbes inquired as a way of beginning the inevitable conversation.

"It has recently come to our attention that this town has experienced five times more deaths over the last few years than any other, similarly-sized town in the whole of the United States," Sam explained in his calm but engaged tone of voice, designed to instill trust in any person of authority they needed for information.

"I don't see how this is of any interest to the FBI," the woman stated curiously, but the question in her statement would be audible to just about anyone.

"The sudden increase of dead bodies found in the area _is_ cause for alarm," the youngest man remarked, more than slightly confused by how lightly the town's own Sheriff seemed to take the loss of her fellow townspeople.

"Of course it is!" she bristled indignantly, enraged by the mere assumption that she did not have the people's best interests at the forefront of her mind. "I am only suggesting that it would be more logical for the Animal Control to take on the case than the FBI."

"Why would you say that?" Sam wondered, exchanging a brief look with his brother.

Just then there was a light knock on the door and the blonde secretary entered with their nourishments, placing three cups of steaming coffee on the desk between the three people engrossed in their discussion.

"Thank you, Cindy," the Sheriff said evenly as the young girl turned to leave the room, then shifted her attention back to the fake FBIs. "Excuse me, could you repeat the question?"

"Why would you say it's a case for the Animal Control, and not us?" Sam patiently vocalized the question the woman would have already answered if she hadn't been so conveniently interrupted by the door.

"Well, we have mostly been plagued by animal attacks," the Sheriff elaborated off-handedly before carefully sipping at her scalding hot beverage, silently urging the other two to do the same. "That doesn't quite seem to fit into your department."

"Do you have any solid proof that it is, in fact, an animal responsible here?" the younger agent plowed on, undeterred by the uniformed woman's unwillingness to divulge useful information.

"What else could it possibly be?" she challenged while acting completely clueless, giving a show good enough to make the Winchester brothers doubt she had the tiniest clue of what was actually going under her very nose.

If nothing else, the constant need for covering up supernatural activity had turned her into quite an actress.

In the silence that followed as the two hunters frantically searched for a suitable and hopefully believable answer to her question, the Sheriff grabbed her chance for a little further stalling.

"Your coffee's getting cold," she informed airily, like it was of no importance, but something in the older woman's voice told them it would be in their best interest to start drinking immediately.

"Have there been any witnesses?" Dean took over the questioning for a moment, then almost choked on the dark liquid in his hasty attempt to getting in the Sheriff's good graces.

The sharp woman observed the men closely, looking for any traces of vampireish reactions to the vervain, finding none whatsoever.

Heaving a small sigh of relief, she finally divulged an answer in a steady voice. "There was this one girl that survived an attack last year."

"I expect you interrogated her. What did she have to say?" both hunters scooted forward in their seats, excited to _finally_ gaining some useful inforation.

"She only confirmed what we already knew," she concluded gravely, calmly bringing the cup to her lips for another mouthful. "She said it was an animal."

"What _kind_ of animal?" Dean cut in impatiently, internally wondering how it was at all possible that most people stayed so oblivious of the true dangers residing in the world, even when the evidence was staring them straight in the face.

"She didn't get a good look at the beast," she explained in a condescending tone, like it should be obvious. "It was very late at night and she was wandering around in the woods alone after leaving a party.

"Could you give me a name and adress?" Sam inquired, producing a notebook and a pen from his inner pocket to put down the details. "We'd like to ask her a few questions."

His easy questions being not so easy to answer created a silence thick with uncomfortable tension, until the woman finally supplied them with an answer. "I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Why?" the youngest hunter wondered with a deep frown furrowing his dark eyebrows, puzzled by her unexpected response.

"She disappeared a few weeks later, presumably she ran away – and it wasn't such a surprise, what with her family situation and all," Sheriff Forbes explained, much more willing to share information now that the two strange FBI Agents had passed her vervain test. "But her body was found burried in the woods later the same year."

The Winchesters exchanged a meaningful look. They'd been working too long with the supernatural to believe in coincidences any more.

"No, _that's_ not suspicious _at all_," the oldest man mumbled sarcastically under his breath, low enough for the Sheriff not to catch the exact words, but still loud enough to earn a pointed glare and another kick under the desk.

Dean briefly conceded to himself that he was likely to develop a vicious bruise in that particular spot before night fall.

"You didn't find _anything_ to indicate the girl's death was connected to the earlier attack upon her?" Sam asked patiently, opting to ignore his brother in the hope that Sheriff Forbes would follow his example.

"The cause of death was an overdose. And seeing as the rest of the gang she frequently took drugs _with_ were found dead barely a day before she disappeared, the way we see it, it's safe to assume we had a drug deal gone wrong on our hands," she elaborated with an easily detectable undertone of weariness. "I can assure you we are still investigating the matter."

"Could we please have the adress fo the girl's family, anyway?" the younger man requested respectfully, quite ready to wrap it up and get out of there. "She might have mentioned something more to them."

"Sure," the woman agreed, writing down the details on a piece of paper, then handing it over.

"Thank you for your time, Sheriff Forbes" Sam declared, infusing just the right amount of gratefulness into his words. "We'll be in touch."

The Winchester brothers left the Sheriff alone, lost in her thoughts contemplating whether or not she should be worried. They were, after all, not vampires, but that didn't necessarily rule them out as a potential threat.

Liz Forbes rubbed a hand over her forhead wearily, releasing a tired sigh. She honestly hoped the agents would hurry up with their investigations and leave – she had enough on her plate already.

* * *

**AN: This chapter took quite some time to write: first I got this terrible writers block (it's a nightmare!). Then I finally got inspired; when I was waiting for the buss to go visit a friend... And when I got back home I got sick (seriously! Why? :( ) Anyway, enough complaining from me. It's finished now! And that's what's important :)  
**

**On another note, I've never received this many reviews on a chapter before! Ever. Think we'd be able to beat the record? ;D *hinthint*  
**

**02.07.13  
**


	6. Chapter Five: Not Exactly

**AN: Again, I'd like to thank everyone that is reading my story, even if it's a bit slow. A bigger thank you, of course, to everyone that are motivating me by reviewing: _Ange De La Misericorde, lesroisdumonde, moonflowers .and .rain, Guest, Basia Orci, elvalove, kb, Vanitas-Of-Darkness, vikki .dillard_ and _Elena brown_! :D  
**

**********Answers to the anonymous review**s:

******_Guest_ and********_Elena Brown_**: Thanks, I'm glad you liked it! ;)

******_kb_: Wow, thank you! ;D About checking the authenticity of people claiming to be FBI: I have no idea, there probably is, but I'm not from the US either, so I don't know the system. I think there was one episode of Supernatural where a Sheriff (or someone like that) checked up on them, but their call was answered by Bobby...? Yeah, I'm looking forward to writing their meeting too! ;P Even though I don't always like what's happening on the show, I can't just NOT watch (I'm WAY too curious for that!). I'll just console myself with the fact that there is always a fanfic to right any wrongs! :] Hmm, I think that was all I had to say. Oh, and I hope you like this chapter as well - it has both Damon AND Alaric in it!**

* * *

Chapter Five: Not Exactly A Walk In The Park

The ten minutes drive back from the Sheriff's office was spent in tense silence. As the older Winchester brother drove, Sam sat unbowed in the passenger seat staring straight forward through the front window with steely eyes, his jaw so tight it looked like it might actually hurt.

Dean thought the guy had never looked more like he had that infamous stick up his ass.

After the fifth failed attempt at breaking the lasting silence he'd given up, deeming his long-haired companion a temporarily lost cause and concentrated on the road in front of him.

The local Bed & Breakfast was silent in the calm and comforting way – not the calm before the storm way that was so often the case in the hunters' life – when the two of them returned, ready to retreat to their room after a psychologically exhausting day.

Dean counted himself lucky that the exuberant and overly talkative old woman owning the place was nowhere in sight when they entered the foyer – he didn't particularly enjoy the thought of being ambushed and subjected to another one of the woman's gatherings including tea and ancient stories in the backroom.

Once was enough to last a lifetime.

The taller brother hurried past the other one to ascend the stairs ahead of him. Dean had become very familiar – much more than he liked – with that particular mood of his younger brother over the years. The guy was like a ticking bomb, ready to go off any moment.

The very second the door to their rented room closed behind the two men, the inevitable and wholly expected explosion was a fact.

"Seriously, Dean? What is wrong with you?" the enraged Winchester exclaimed in exasperation, gesturing wildly with both hands in a manner Dean found entirely too amusing in relation to the specific situation. "Can't you at least _try_ to act like a normal human being for _five minutes_?"

Yeah... It was going to be a long night.

* * *

The Mystic Grill was bustling with activity on that fine, early evening of late spring. Everyone was there, it seemed. There were families gathered together for dinner, teenagers crowding the pool tables, and, of course, there were the ever present drunks at the bar.

Then there was the dark-haired vampire and the resident vampire hunter joined for a friendly drink in their regular spots at the very same bar. The irony of _that_ particular friendship was lost on the majority of the town's inhabitants. To them - the blessed part of the people, those that never had to worry about the things that go bump in the night - they were just the replacement history teacher and one of the town's most eligible bachelors.

"So you've really no idea who's behind all this?" Alaric Saltzman - geeky history teacher by day, badass vampire hunter by night – asked his above average murderous friend.

"No, and it's _really_ starting to grate on my nerves," Damon the blue-eyed vampire replied with a scowl, then raising his eyes towards the ceiling and pouring half of the Bourbon in his glass into his mouth.

Alcohol was supposed to be good for the nerves, right?

"Can't you guys, like, sense each other or something?" the relatively young man inquired with a wave of his hand, like the gesture actually helped explain anything.

"It sure would've made my work here a hell of a lot easier, but no, it doesn't work that way," Damon informed with a roll of his clear eyes, then downed the rest of the amber colored liquid before signaling for the bartender to bring him another one. "The only option would be to listen for their heartbeat, which is easier said than done."

"How? I thought your hearing was almighty?" Alaric questioned, slightly mocking, but curious to learn the answer all the same.

"Yeah, but in a crowd like this," the eternally young male began with a swipe of his hand to indicate the multitude of people surrounding the two of them. "with about fifty human hearts beating like their lives depended on it – pun intended," he interrupted himself with a sly smirk – honestly, the guy kept his humour even in the direst of situations. "- finding the one that _doesn't_ is not exactly a walk in the park."

"Yeah, well, I'll keep my eyes open for any new faces. Or old ones acting suspiciously," the slightly drunken teacher added as an afterthought as he offered his assistance.

"Either way, I'd prefer to solve this whole thing sooner rather than later," the dark-haired vampire declared to his drinking buddy, making a halfhearted attempt at a indifferent smirk. "Preferably _before_ Mystic Falls' human population becomes extinct."

* * *

Early the next morning Dean was awoken by a rather smelly, old pair of pants to the head. Grabbing the knife he kept beneath his pillow at all times, he shot out of bed to fend off his attacker.

Had Sam not been busy getting ready to leave the room for the day, he would have laughed his head off at his older brother's ridiculous display.

"Get dressed, we're going out," he commanded, and tossed his brother's suit at its owner, having already donned his own minutes earlier.

"What the hell, Sammy?" Dean bellowed, his sleep-addled mind working furiously to find _any_ kind of meaning in the treatment he was currently being subjected to.

"There's been another _animal attack_," the wide awake hunter informed, sending his tired companion a meaningful glance.

"What? How do you even _know_ that?" his older brother questioned, still quite out of it as he slid on his wrinkly dress pants.

"Police radio," Sam replied calmly, before turning to leave the room. "Now, come on."

Grumbling something about baby brothers being a pain in the ass, Dean Winchester grudgingly followed his most annoying family member on his early-morning quest for the truth about the supernatural activity in the small, insignificant town in Virginia.

* * *

**AN: Short, I know, but I wanted to have it up by my Birthday ;D And seeing as I'm the Birthday girl, I wish for many reviews ;] Hehe^^  
**

**Next chapter: the roads of the main characters of this story will finally (briefly) cross! They might meet for real in the chapter after that. It depends on whether or not I decide something more needs to happen between the two scenes I have planned.**

**Once again I'll plead with you all to please leave me a review - it encourages me to write more!**

**02.20.13**


	7. Chapter Six: No Killing

**AN: Wow, just the amount of reviews I've gotten since the last update just blows my mind away :O I'd like to thank everyone that's been reading my little story, especially _moonflowers .and .rain, Haru Maru Salvatore, patrishis, Basia Orci, Ange De La Misericorde, Vanitas-Of-Darkness, hopeless-dream, girlreadsalot, ComedyTragedy91, Fangirlxoxo, SPicy666, Epiclide, reader, supernaturalfan2123, Guest, Nuu, Maria liss, Jelena, meangene1976 _and_ EruditeText_ for their wonderful reviews, and of course all the other people that has either favorited or is following it.**

******Answers to the anonymous reviews:**

_**Fangirlxoxo:**_** Oh, thanks! ;D They're two of my favorite shows as well :P**

_**SPicy666:**_** Here you is more for you! ;)**

_**Epiclide:**_** Thanks, 'lide ^^ You know you are the very best baby sister in the whole wide world, right?**

_**reader:**_** Thanks! Glad you liked it ^^**

_**Guest:**_** Thank you! :D The next chapter is finally here now!**

_**Nuu:**_** Thank you so much! I'm really trying to do my best with this story :)**

_**Jelena:**_** Hope you still want more ;D Oh, and thanks, of course! **

**I just need to apologize for being such a terrible updater (seriously, it's been almost _five months_ already?!), and I really hope you haven't all given up on me - even though I honestly wouldn't blame you if you did.**

**Nevertheless, I finally have a chapter ready to be updated, so without further ado I'd like to present chapter six of 'Grey Areas':**

* * *

Chapter Six: No Killing

The first thing Sheriff Forbes did after receiving news of another attack was calling Damon and asking him to meet her at the crime scene. With the recent increase in attacks she was pretty sure at least half of her phone bill had to come from calling the vampire by now.

Arriving at the scene she got to see the victim – a local, teenage girl she didn't know personally – throat almost torn out in several nasty bites - more than likely caused by a vicious vampire - but miraculously the poor girl was still breathing.

Turning away from the horrible sight to allow the medics to do their job, she was on the verge of jumping straight out of her skin when she came face to face with her bloodthirsty, unofficial investigation partner.

* * *

"Remind me again why we're driving to the middle of nowhere at five minutes to way too early?" the grouchy hunter demanded sourly, not really expecting any kind of answer he would feel inclined to accept.

Dean Winchester had never been much of a morning person.

The two brothers were driving down a deserted road surrounded by trees on both sides, the heavy leaves hiding whatever happened to be beyond the next turn in the road.

"I mean, come on, why does it always have to be so freaking _early_ in the morning? Seriously, why couldn't it all happen at, like, noon or something?"

The younger hunter of the two kept silent while checking his e-mail on his, thankfully, still-working phone. He had no qualms about leaving his brother to his ranting, but he certainly deemed his irrational questions unworthy of any proper answer.

"Would it _really_ kill them to wait just a few more hours?" the irate hunter grumbled, mostly to himself, steering his loyal Impala around another turn with a such a gentle caress of the leather-clad wheel that it belied his overall demeanor.

Sam switched from watching his phone's screen in consentration to looking at his strange brother like he'd finally lost it completely.

"What?" Dean exclaimed obliviously when he at long last noticed the incredulous expression his long-haired companion was sporting while staring at him.

The man in question did the only thing he could under the circumstances; shaking his head with a sigh of defeat – the kind there's no doubt says 'I'm not even gonna ask'.

Dean took a deep breath to keep going, but any further ranting on his part was rudely - or timely, whichever way you should choose to look at it - interrupted by the rapidly increasing sound of sirens coming from somewhere behind his car.

Just seconds later an ambulance rushed past them – blue lights to accompany the blaring sound of the sirens - breaking every known speed limit in the process.

Exchanging a look of mutual understanding – developed and perfected through years and years of shared experiences in the field - with his younger brother, Dean shifted up the gear of his trusted, old car and sped down the road after the emergency car.

Seeing as they were unable to catch up with the ambulance - an undeniable fact that nevertheless irked Dean to no end – the medics were already heaving a person onto a stretcher into the back of the vehicle when the two hunters finally arrived at the crime scene.

The scene of the crime was a small grove of trees – cut off from the rest of the forest by a thin string of caution tape in yellow and black – just a few yards off of the road. The small area was swarming with stern-looking people in various kinds of uniforms – mainly policemen, a few people from the Animal Control and the ambulance personnel - most of them busy searching the surroundings for clues that might be important in any way in relation to the morning's incident.

Stepping out of the Impala, the two hunters posing as FBI agents straightened their ties and suit jackets, mentally preparing to do their job. Even Dean had woken up properly and stopped complaining – whatever the circumstances, he could always be counted on when it mattered the most.

The two Winchester brothers strode onto the scene – taking no heed of the warning written on the tape meant to stop people from entering – looking around for any person that might be capable of filling them in on the situation they had walked into.

* * *

"We need to find the ones responsible for all of these attacks before it's made public knowledge," Sheriff Forbes concluded, giving her dark-haired confidant her most serious look.

After filling the vampire in on the details of the morning's 'animal' attack, she'd proceeded to warn him about the new threat that had just arrived in town. The FBI. Like they didn't have enough enemies – in lack of a more suitable word to describe it - without adding the authorities to the mix as well as the various supernatural creatures.

"If they become a problem, I'll take care of it," the oldest living Salvatore – figuratively speaking, of course – promised in an attempt to sound reassuring, but his lips twitched slightly, like what it truly wanted to do was to draw up in a smirk.

"No killing," the uniformed woman commanded sternly. "We certainly don't need more of the authorities to come over here searching for missing FBI agents on top of it all."

"Fine," he consented, bringing both hands up in defeat, before his benevolent expression slipped away in favor of his trademark smirk. "I'll use my awesome Powers of Persuasion instead."

"Thank you, Damon," the Sheriff said sincerely in a tender tone of voice, placing her hand on his shoulder in a gesture of gratitude.

"Anything for you, Lizzie," the vampire proclaimed with a over exaggerated wink and a wicked grin, making her shudder at the thought that a couple of fangs would have fit right in with the menacing picture he was presenting that very moment.

"Speaking of, that wouldn't happen to be them right over there now, would it?" he continued casually, tilting his head a little to the left where he'd just spotted two suit-clad strangers that looked determined, yet slightly lost.

Liz turned her head just in time to catch the rude one of the two checking out a nurse hasting by.

Looking to be in deep thoughts the old predator cocked his head to the side in contemplation.

"Who do you think's most tasty?" he wondered out loud, keeping his crystal gaze fixed on his unsuspecting prey as he flashed his normal, human-looking teeth in a sinister grin. "Shorty or the giant?"

The dangerous creature spared a mischievous glance at his disgruntled, human friend.

She could only shake her head in exasperation. Damon was being his usual self; meaning, he thrived in making people around him uncomfortable in any way he could, and at every available opportunity.

Sometimes she wondered whether he needed _that_ even more than he needed life-giving, human blood to survive.

The man truly was a devil, every which way you looked at it. She wanted nothing more than to be able to say he was _the_ devil, but unfortunately the Sheriff of Mystic Falls had it on good authority that there were infinitesimally more cruel devils than him in existence. That wasn't to say she wasn't eternally grateful to have the old vampire on the town's side – far from it – but she would dearly like to believe he was the biggest and baddest there was.

She gave another mental shudder at the fleeting thought of the destruction he could have caused had he been their enemy – what with the fact that he had the whole council practically eating out of his hand within months of returning to town. And that without compelling a single one of them!

The guy's natural charm really was downright deadly.

* * *

**AN: Again, I'm really sorry for the long wait!**

**This was supposed to be longer, and there were more I had planned to fit into this chapter, but I just couldn't get it right! So I've been stuck right here for the past TWO months... :/ It didn't help that I've been working six days a week a lot of that time either. But enough with the excuses!**

**Anyway, so I decided to just update the story with what I have, and save the rest for next chapter instead :)**

**As always, I'd love to hear any of your opinions – both the good and the bad! And just so you know, reviews _will_ be received with squeals and overall giddy behavior ^^**

**07.10.13**


End file.
